The Portrait Room
by Elionu
Summary: Clara goes to explore the TARDIS. Why do so many rooms have names on them? And what is this door on the end of the corridor? My first attempt at a fan-fic.


The Portrait Room

By Maddie Raye

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and always has.

Clara had only been on the TARDIS for a few hours and was already curious about some of the rooms. The TARDIS almost seemed to be alive, just like the Doctor described to her:

"Now remember, Clara, this is the Console Room." He said. "You enter this hall and the TARDIS will guide you to whichever room you need to see. Trust me, she knows. Yes, she's alive, and yes she's telepathic, so try not to offend her." Clara then set off in search for her room. She found it right at the near end of a particularly long, straight corridor, with many identical doors lining it at regular intervals.

It hadn't taken her long, she found her room almost instantly. No, what she was doing now was looking around out of curiosity. There seemed to be quite a lot of rooms, many of them with names on them, all down the hall. She couldn't find a room labeled "Doctor" (not that she was looking of course, but simply out of curiosity), but passed many others as she walked. Next to her own, she found one labeled "The Ponds", and across from hers "Donna". She continued to walk, and after about five minutes of passing rooms with names on them, wondered exactly how many people the Doctor had traveled with, who they were, where (and when) they came from. Some looked out of place, like an old-fashioned set of two neighboring doors far down labeled "Victoria" and "Jamie", and a very charred-looking door labeled "Ace" next to a chemistry lab, of all things!

At the end of the hall with all the doors with names, there was a set of double doors with an ornate design, at a T-intersection with a larger corridor. She tried these doors, they weren't locked. Indeed, it seemed as if someone had put them there, wanting her to enter. "Well," she thought, "the Doctor didn't say she couldn't look around".

Clara entered the room to find a dark, large, mostly empty room. As soon as she entered, small spotlights shone on a collection of portraits lining the walls. It seemed the entire purpose of this room was as a portrait gallery, as all the pictures were very detailed paintings of people. These paintings looked almost like photographs, they were so detailed. "There is no way that the Doctor could have painted these", she thought, as they looked too lifelike. She started her way around the room clockwise, starting with a large portrait of a teenage girl with dark hair, who was dressed in the fashions of the 1960s. A nameplate under her portrait read "Susan". Clara vaguely remembered that the door in the corridor closest to this gallery, yet furthest from her own read "Susan". After seeing the same pattern with "Ian" and "Barbara", she figured that this gallery depicted previous travelers with the Doctor.

Some of the portraits she noticed were larger than others. Some people shared a portrait, such as a group of two people who looked to be about her age: a boy in a kilt and a turtleneck with thick brown hair and a small girl in a sparkly cat-suit, both of whom were in a rather large portrait. Another thing she noticed was that these portraits all seemed to be in eleven groups, with a large empty space between these portraits and a few on the end that Clara hadn't really gotten to yet. Clara also noticed that in general, the attire of the people in these portraits seemed to progress from the fashions of the nineteen sixties to her present day. Of course there were several exceptions to this rule, such as the kilted boy, a girl in a nearby portrait in a Victorian era gown, a penguin (of all things!), a woman in a leather bikini, and a portrait of several smiling men in identical military uniforms.

At the eleventh group, there was the Doctor, sitting on a bench in front of a portrait of a young couple, dressed in modern-day outfits. The Doctor looked quite sad, as if he missed them greatly, which he probably did, as they were among the last portraits there. He looked up as she approached.

"Hello Clara. I thought I might find you in here. Sometimes they come in here." He said.

"Who?" She wanted to know. "Why, my companions, of course. They're all up there, on the wall." The Doctor replied. "And look, there you are!" he exclaimed, pointing to a small portrait of Clara herself on the end.

Clara said "I see that these are your former companions, but who are they?" She pointed at the very end, near the door, where thirteen frames hung.

These thirteen frames differed from all the others in that while the other portraits were displayed with pride, and differed in size, these were smaller, and all of the same size, and obviously were cared for much less. Furthermore, all of these portraits were of men, who for the most part looked middle-aged or older. In addition, only ten frames held a portrait, while the eleventh through the thirteenth were empty. These men looked very different, but all had the same fire in their eyes that also held mischief and curiosity. In addition, all of them, with a few exceptions, dressed in strange ways, like the man with the floppy hat and long, multicolored scarf, the man with the question-mark sweater, and she didn't even want to know where that Technicolor Dreamcoat came from. Clara looked at the doctor carefully, noticing the same fire in those oddly old eyes on that young face, and gasped as she came to a realization.

"Yes, Clara, they're all me." Said the Doctor. He held a hand up as he continued, as if used to people interrupting him as he explained this. "Not only do I have a time machine and two hearts, but instead of dying, I can change my appearance and personality twelve times. It's just something my species does. Don't bother to ask me further" he said with a kind smile on his face "it would be too difficult for you to understand, and it isn't something that you need to understand right now."

Clara turned to survey the room in general. "So you've really travelled with all these people?" He replied: "Not all of them actually travelled with me, some of them over there" he pointed to the portrait of the military men. "I worked with when I was exiled on Earth in the 1970s—long story, don't ask. But no, not all of them actually travelled in the TARDIS with me. But I remember all of them, and miss all of them greatly. Some of them were torn from me prematurely." He glances sadly at a picture of a young boy with long hair, dark eyes, and with a gold star pinned to his shirt. "Others left voluntarily, and went on with their lives. But they all hold a special place in my hearts for as long as I live."

And with that, the Doctor took Clara's hand and led her out of the portrait gallery.


End file.
